


Hippies Don't Wear Panties (But They Might, If You Ask Nicely)

by trillingstar



Category: Oz (1997)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Community: 50kinkyways, Crack, F/M, Humor, M/M, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-06
Updated: 2010-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-08 18:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trillingstar/pseuds/trillingstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toby takes a seminar and Chris leaves nothing to the imagination.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hippies Don't Wear Panties (But They Might, If You Ask Nicely)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt #5: oil on [50kinkyways](http://community.livejournal.com/50kinkyways) &amp; for [Oz Porn Tuesdays](http://trillingstar.livejournal.com/182013.html). College!B/K, featuring Campy!Beecher, Scheming!O'Reily and DifferentLife!Keller. WILDLY AU, indefinable timeline, and ohmigod, so silly. :D  
> Thank you to Severina for insisting that Oz could use some more rainbows and to [Ozsaur](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ozsaur) &amp; [Blackchaps](http://archiveofourown.org/users/blackchaps) for the cheerleading. Peep!  
> 

  
Three weeks ago, Toby had decided that picking up a Saturday afternoon seminar on intellectual property rights would be a breeze. He didn't really need the extra credits, but he liked the professor well enough, and more importantly, he loved the timeslot. He was sharing an off-campus apartment with Angus, who had banded together with a trio of hippies bent on world domination through folksy flute music and forced doses of chamomile hemp tea; Toby was only too happy to leave his little brother to both the mercies of dippy practice sessions in the living room in his meager attempts to get laid and to the ensuing shitstorms fueled by parental outrage, as the Beechers liked to check in on their sons over the weekend.

Actually, Toby had been surprised to realize that his second year of law school was passing by so smoothly, especially when he thought about how hard he'd struggled during his first year, and how close he'd come to throwing in the towel and running away to Chile or Swaziland and becoming a basket-weaver or a gourd handler. Then during the fall semester, something indefinable slotted into place, and Toby began to see the world through the eyes of the law, and after that when he was peppered with questions, he could summon the answers and express them clearly. Honestly, it was unnerving, but Toby figured that concert pianists probably saw the world in musical notes, so maybe this really was the right career for him.

However, what he had not counted on for the Saturday seminars was the incredibly distracting presence of Dr Katyal's TA. Chris Keller - third year, of course, with the most enviable credentials: double major Poli Sci and pre-Law from Georgetown, _God_ \- dressed in the most threadbare clothes Toby had ever seen on anyone except - well, hippies. His jeans were well-worn; his t-shirts tight around his arms and chest, looking as though they'd been scrounged from a trash can or at that place on Carmichael that sold clothing by the pound; he favored Tevas even when it was cold enough that he wore a soft-looking blue fleece pullover. Keller's jaw was always covered by dark scruff and the hair on the top of his head stuck straight up like that of a baby chick, as though he didn't own a comb. Unlike most TAs, who sat in the first row, gazing raptly upon the professor, Keller moved seats from week to week, and he looked at the students during the lectures. Girls and guys alike fell all over him, and at the end of class there was practically a line-up, a crowd of adoring faces and perky ponytails, and it made Toby glower and grind his teeth.

Toby had been on the receiving end of one of those indolent, thoughtful perusals last week, and he was embarrassed to admit that he'd blushed under the close scrutiny. Even worse, when he'd - totally accidentally, mind you - caught the TA's eye at the end of class, Keller had winked at him.

Naturally Toby hadn't thought about the slow burn of Keller's stare at all after that, or wondered whether or not he wore colored contact lenses, or contemplated if the man ever slept, in between classes and all the time he must spend working out to achieve his chiseled body. No. Not at all.

Honestly, Toby found Chris's behavior unnerving as hell, and he complained about it to his study partner. Frequently.

"Look, Beech, if it bugs you that much, fuckin' quit and go listen to Augie and the Dreamers play their harps or whatever the fuck it is they do when you're not around." Ryan tilted his head. "Maybe it's all a front, and the second you're out the door it's a free for all orgy situation. You know hippies don't wear panties, right?"

His last sentence echoed in the suddenly quiet lecture hall, and was received by multiple sniggers.

"Mr O'Reily," Dr Katyal said dryly. "If we're not interrupting. Your treatment on the Bayh-Dole Act." He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Asshole," Ryan hissed under his breath, directing the remark at Toby, and then cleared his throat to answer.

"Maybe if you ask nicely," Toby whispered back. He successfully fought a smirk off his face and stared at the screen of his laptop, pretending to take a few notes.

~

After class, Toby waited in the front alcove while Ryan lit a cigarette, and then he snatched it from Ryan's mouth to take a puff.

Ryan punched Toby in the arm. "You owe me!"

"What? I don't owe you jack shit, O'Reily," Toby said, blowing smoke in Ryan's face.

Ryan groaned. "Jesus, now Dr K thinks I'm some sex-crazed hippie fucker." He lit another cigarette, pointing it at Toby. "We're going out tonight, and you're paying."

"Well, he's got the first part right," Toby muttered. "Fine, but I have that paper for Meerson due on Tuesday, so... wait, where are we going?"

A horrible thought had crossed his mind. Ryan liked a different girl from week to week, and his current obsession was a stone-cold ball-buster named Claire, an undergrad who did work-study at the law library. She was rude and unforgiving. If a student was two seconds late with a book, she'd fine them; sometimes she'd pretend that reserved books weren't available just to watch someone have a nervous breakdown. Toby had observed this behavior more than once and had resolved long ago to stay on her good side. He had no idea what Ryan liked about her other than the challenge - she'd turned him down twice already.

"I'll pick you up at eight!" Ryan was already halfway across the quad. "Wear something you're not afraid to get dirty!" He turned away, laughing, and threw the bird at Toby over his shoulder.

"Hot date?" Keller's voice, from right next to him.

"Christ!" Toby jumped. "You need a collar and a _bell_." He bit the insides of his cheeks hard, mortified. He glanced sideways at Keller, whose face showed only amusement.

"Well," Keller drawled. "I was gonna ask what's going on tonight, but it looks like you've already got plans."

He hadn't moved away, and Toby flushed when he realized he was staring at Keller's mouth, waiting for his lips to move around some more words.

Stalling, Toby drew deeply off the cigarette. "God, I don't know. O'Reily's always got something brewing. I'm just along for the ride."

"Must be some ride," Keller said, and Toby experienced a wild surge of emotion that felt like... jealousy. Huh. He kept his mouth shut, then took another drag.

"So... you and him..." Chris raised an eyebrow.

Toby coughed, spluttering smoke. "No! God. What- no. No," he stressed. "Ryan's a free man. Gotta warn you though, he really likes pussy." Toby fiddled with the strap on his briefcase. "But you could probably change his mind." He flicked the cigarette butt toward the trashcan. "See ya." Toby knew his cheeks were still red, and he strode off quickly before he could do anything truly embarrassing.

~

The hippies were still draped across the living room furniture when Toby got home, and he stood in the doorway long enough to make sure that Angus was still breathing before heading upstairs. He heard the muted jingle of a tambourine as he stepped into the shower, so he hummed a few bars of The Byrds' classic in tribute.

Ryan showed up at eight-thirty, already at least one sheet to the wind, made clear by the fascination he showed in leaning on the doorbell repeatedly. Toby hustled him off the stoop and into a cab before Ryan caught the scent of patchouli and baby powder wafting from the living room.

"Seriously, where are we going?" Toby asked, gesturing at the cabbie.

Ryan handed the guy a business card, then fell back against the seat, giggling.

"Fuck's sake, O'Reily," Toby laughed. "Why the secrecy? Is this some kind of Irish hazing ritual?"

"Nah," Ryan said. "It's gonna be awesome, you'll see."

Standing on the sidewalk outside of the bar, Toby sincerely doubted that whatever happened tonight would be anywhere close to awesome. The concrete building was squat, only a couple of stories high, although it was hard to tell since there weren't any windows. What it lacked in windows, it made up for in neon signs - there were several in pink, green, red and blue, flashing and blinking and generally proclaiming that "Kombat" featured "XXX Nudes" and "Ladies Night" and an "All You Can See Buffet".

"Holy shit," Toby said. He looked back to the street, but the taxi was already gone.

Ryan slung his arm around Toby's shoulders and propelled him to the door, where a hulking bouncer with a tiny hat balanced on his bald head glared at them until Toby opened his wallet. Inside, the club was hot, the lighting murky, and it was absolutely packed with women. Women dancing together in packs, standing, sitting practically on each others' laps in tiny booths, holding hands, sharing drinks...

"Why are we at a gay bar?" Toby yelled into Ryan's ear.

Ryan rolled his eyes, pointing at the guys tending bar and delivering drinks.

"Oh," Toby said. The waiters and bartenders wore muscle tanks and hot pants, and there were men in thongs gyrating on top of raised platforms around the club. "_Oh._"

"Come on, Beech, this's right up your alley." Ryan grinned. "Gimme money; I'll go get us some beers."

Numbly, Toby handed over his wallet. He kept his back to the wall and schooled his expression into something resembling blankness, avoiding looking at anyone directly. When Ryan came back, he had four beers and Claire the librarian on his arm. Jesus. This was so not awesome at all.

Ryan shoved two bottles into Toby's hands. "Drink up!" He shouted. "Claire took care of everything."

Toby wondered if he was about to be roofied. Maybe he could accidentally drop the bottles.

"Drink, Beecher," Claire said, hovering, her body language menacing.

Terrified, Toby chugged one beer under their watchful stares, belched loudly, and raised the second in parody of a toast. "Cheers," he mouthed, smiling weakly.

Ryan nodded approvingly. "Come on," he yelled. "Let's get closer."

Toby followed blindly, wishing for more beer. Hopefully Claire would keep Ryan occupied, and maybe he could slip out unnoticed. Toby groaned; Ryan still had his wallet.

"Fuck," he swore, and promptly bumped into Claire's back. She'd stopped walking, Toby had not, and there wasn't anywhere to go. She whipped around and glared, but it wasn't her meanest look, in fact, she looked as if she was waiting in anticipation for something; it set off all of Toby's internal alarms.

The lights in the club dimmed even further, and the music snapped off abruptly. An excited murmur rippled through the crowd. Toby looked around, realizing that he was standing ringside to what looked like a half-sized in ground pool, lined with plastic tarps. He was right up against the blue velvety ropes, with Claire and Ryan flanking him on either side.

The PA system whined once, and then: "Laaaaaadiiiies and... more ladies," the disembodied voice shrieked. "A man who needs no introduction... please put your hands together for Kombat's very owwwwn... Prooooo-fessor!"

Professor? Toby stared at the curtains at the far end of the ring. Strains of Van Halen boomed out of the speakers, and to Toby's horror, he heard Ryan singing along, "What do you think the teacher's gonna look like this year?"

Toby felt his jaw hit his shoes when the curtains opened and he saw Chris-fucking-Keller standing in the spotlight dressed in a bright red suit and glasses, carrying a briefcase. "Oh. My. G-"

The crowd shoved forward, and Toby's ears rang with the deafening screams of the audience.

_Fuck man! Uh! Oh yeah! Yeah..._ the music blared. Keller flung the briefcase to the side and yanked at his tie. Grinning, he strutted down the ramp to the ring, throwing one leg over the velvet rope and thrusting his hips forward and back.

"Take it off, baby!" Claire howled, her voice somehow louder than the music.

Toby flinched, and then swallowed hard when Keller's attention alighted on him. They both froze, staring, and Toby looked away first. Holy shit, Keller the TA was really Keller the stripper!

When Toby looked back, Keller had taken off his shirt and pants and had moved into the ring. Clad in only tiny white boxer shorts and the loosened tie, he wasn't doing anything that Toby associated with strippers, instead just standing there, grinning inanely at the crowd, stretching and flexing and... licking his fingers and touching them to his nipples.

Toby's knees buckled.

Keller turned around and bent over, giving Toby the best shot of the ass he'd been drooling over for weeks. When he straightened up again, he was holding two large containers in his hands, like the three liter soda bottles stocked in Toby's fridge. He held them up, and if it was possible, the noise level inside the club increased. Keller raised one arm up, arched his back, and tipped the contents out. A moment passed before Toby realized what the liquid was, and suddenly the neon signs from outside made more sense.

Holy fucking shit, Keller wasn't just a stripper; he was covering his magnificent body in oil, and he was going to wrestle around with some lucky bitch in the middle of the hot, noisy, hormonally-charged ring. God-fucking-damn, this was the best thing ever.

Keller dumped the whole bottle onto his chest, letting it run down his pecs, his abs, and further, down his muscular thighs. He used the second bottle for his back and then rubbed the oil into his arms and neck. The lights changed from bright to softer reds and yellows, and the crowd murmured appreciatively.

_Teacher needs to see me after school..._ The music cut out suddenly, and the voice returned. "We've been informed that Professor Keller has an unruly student in his class!"

The crowd gasped.

"This student's been given warnings, but nothing's worked! Now... it's time for the big guns!"

Keller flexed amenably.

"Detention! For Mister-" Toby stiffened. Oh, no. "Tobias!" He whirled around, reaching out to strangle Ryan- "Beeeeeeeeeeecherrrrr!"

Claire clapped him on the back, unclipped the rope, and shoved Toby into the ring.

Toby spun in a circle: he was surrounded on all sides by ropes and screaming women and ohmygod, Keller was prowling toward him, and he wasn't smiling at all.

"What do you say, ladies? Do you think our Professor can teach Mr Beecher a lesson?"

The music started up again. _Hot for teacher... I've got it bad, so bad... I'm hot for teacher!_

Toby closed his eyes, and when he opened them, Keller's face was three inches away and Toby had the wild thought that they were about to kiss, and then Keller leaned in further and spoke directly into Toby's ear. "Hi. Ready to get dirty?"

He was taking Toby's t-shirt off before Toby could form an answer, and then he felt Keller's fingers fumbling with the button on his jeans. His hand shot out and he grabbed Keller's wrist. "Uh, no. No, bad idea."

"C'mon, Toby," Keller said. "It's gonna be fun. Come on, I got all oiled up, just for you-" and he pressed his chest against Toby's and the slick slide of oil and skin made Toby shudder.

"You don't even like me," Toby protested.

Keller reared his head back. "Now why would you think something like that?"

Toby shrugged, hands skimming along Keller's forearms. He couldn't be expected not to touch, for god's sakes. "What about Ryan?" God, Keller's stomach was just. Firm. And glistening.

Keller leaned in close again. "Ryan who? Trust me, the only one I was asking anything about was you."

Toby felt the coolness of oil running down his back and glared at Keller, who only shrugged. "I gotta job to do, and you, Mister Beecher, have been detained." He grinned, then, and Toby saw the genuine humor in his eyes.

So it looked like he was the lucky bitch tonight. He nodded.

Keller stepped away. "Put your strong leg back, Toby!"

Toby adjusted his stance. "Bring it!" he shouted, gratified by the surprise on Keller's face.

~

Toby had done some wrestling in high school, but it was made apparent in the first five minutes that Keller was by far the better athlete. He'd stripped off Toby's shoes, socks and jeans; he'd managed to dump another half-bottle of oil onto Toby; he kept them mobile, rolling around and groping, much to the delight of the crowd. Toby writhed and bucked, but the few times he managed to get a grip on Keller, he was sure it was only because Keller was allowing it to happen. It was hot under the lights, and combined with the physical exertion, Toby tired quickly.

On the plus side, they were both rock hard in their boxers, and Keller's were see-through at this point, soaked with oil and stuck to his skin. Toby put his hands everywhere he could reach, including grabbing as much of Keller's ass as he could, and Keller retaliated with sweeping caresses that were just shy of Toby's cock and balls. They pushed against each other, pulling and sliding around, until Keller pulled Toby on top, Keller's chest to Toby's back, one arm around his neck, his other hand grabbing Toby's chest.

Toby had nearly forgotten about the women watching, but then Keller threw his legs over Toby's thighs, forcing them apart and holding him there, trapped and horny. Toby struggled more, and then went limp, but Keller didn't release him, rubbing his cock against Toby's ass through their underwear. They laid there, Toby panting, and the noises of the crowd infiltrated their cocoon. Van Halen must have been put on repeat, and Toby could hear their audience hollering and singing along. "I think of all the education that I've missed... But then my homework was never quite like this!"

"You feel good, Toby," Keller said in his ear. "Wanna hang out later?"

Summoning up the last of his strength, Toby arched one more time, and he slipped free of Keller's hold. He flipped around, focusing on landing his weight on Keller's sternum, and when Keller's breath rushed out of his body, Toby slithered against him, pushing their cocks together, his fingers digging into Keller's biceps.

"Oh, yeah," he said decisively. "After I kill Ryan, I'll need help burying the body."

"Still thinking about that hippie fucker?" Keller laughed. "You gotta tell me what that conversation was all about." He pushed his hips up, rolling them around, and Toby landed on his back with an audible 'whoof'.

"You'll have to drag it out of me, Keller," Toby threatened.

"Call me Chris," Keller said. "And... if you insist."

Toby shoved at Chris, but his hands slipped away, and then he was face down, sprawled across Chris's lap.

"Oh, shit no!" Toby gasped, throwing his hands back, trying to protect his butt.

"Whaddya think, ladies?" Keller yelled.

Toby thought he could hear Ryan cheering as loudly as the women. "So. Dead," he ground out.

Keller palmed one of Toby's ass cheeks. "You look pretty over my knee," he said, and then the spanking began, and didn't stop until David Lee Roth pronounced "Class dismissed!"

 

_Epilogue_

Angus's hippie band broke up after another few weeks, when Angus realized that Katherine had a tape recorder hidden under her hand-knitted hemp hat. She was a sociology major doing research on WASPs. Angus didn't even get laid.

Claire never fucked Ryan either, although she did tie him to the bed once and force him to watch Teletubbies until he thought his eyeballs were bleeding. She left him for a biker named Hoyt. They ran a tattoo parlor/titty bar until they both died of syphilis.

Ryan met one of the hippies in the bookstore. It turned out that she was pre-med and really did like tambourine music. More importantly, she liked Ryan's sense of humor. Their wedding invitations read, "All for you, Gloria. All for you."

Toby and Chris opened a private law practice together. They broke out the baby oil and wrestled for the honor of whose name came first on the sign. The Beecher &amp; Keller Firm's R&amp;D department made huge strides in the legalities involved in DNA evidence and prosecution.

Chris also owned stock in Naughty Nun Undies, and while there were all sorts of things that Toby wanted to ask Chris about, panties wasn't one of them.

 

THE END.  



End file.
